Paternalism & Identity in Renda's Taking Haiti

This may seem like a rather superficial critique of the book Taking Haiti, but the title does not match the content. That is, the terms paternalism and identity deserve a place in the title (at least after the colon) because so much of the historical narrative is rooted to the male identity and the problems and contradictions inherent to paternalism as they unfolded in and around the occupation of Haiti. A prominent point that is depicted by Renda is the ways in which paternalism is fluid and grossly contradictory: it could be used to justify the fatherly protection of the Haitians, and it could simultaneously be adopted as justification for harming the citizens for their own good.

Woodrow Wilson, for instance, adopted a sense of moral paternalism that condoned the occupation for the sake of ‘helping’ and ‘liberating’ the ‘good’ Haitians from the insurgent Cacos. Smedley Butler’s paternalistic stance, on the other hand, took on a familial-protective quality. As the commanding officer of the Gendarmerie, he was tasked with ‘raising up’ a Haitian police agency. He and the recruits shared a common purpose of protection, but he was also their superior officer. Occasionally he interchanged his identity, alluding to a schism in his construction of self. Sometimes he accepted this sense of oneness and referred to himself as Haitian, and other times he distanced himself by casting the recruits off as ‘other.’ Thus, Butler’s approach contrasted Wilson’s moral paternalism, because it “intertwined relations of power and affection” with his conception of fatherhood (p. 107).

Then, of course, there were the perspectives and identities of the enlisted marines: white, American, men. Through an examination of the young men who bolstered this massive paternalistic project, Renda uncovers details related to male identity so as to better understand how the preservation of ‘self’ played a part in the ways marines navigated life and culture during the occupation. Some men were genuinely and willingly assimilated into the Haitian culture and took on the stigma of “going native.” Folks like Hanneken and Button embraced a split identity by taking on aspects of the Haitian culture and language for the sake of benefitting the occupation. Some men suffered from dislocation of their identities in general: they distanced themselves from both the Haitian people and the American identity they possessed prior to their involvement in the occupation. And sadly, there were the examples of marines like Ivan Virsky and Lieutenant South, who violently broke under the total loss of self and displayed behavior that resembles the most horrific examples of modern-day post traumatic stress disorder.

Renda argues that class, race, sexuality, and gender reinforced the violence that surrounded and worked through the male identity and the paternalistic occupation of Haiti. She dedicates a majority of the book to the many changes to identity and the sometimes desperate attempts to preserve it, particularly when the notion of power is confronted by shifts place, culture, and economics. In regards to the individual and problems of power in general, though, her work lends support to the saying, “What doesn’t bend, breaks.”